-He wants me to be 'the best I can', which apparently means 'do what everyone else does'

-He talks more than I do. Who is paying whom here?!

-He says the same things every time. I hear the same stories every week. I'm not even exagerating.

-"One in 10,000 black kids get in the NBA".That's why I won't get published. Ever. Because a) ALL black kids play basketball and want to be in the NBA, b) basketball and writing are the same thing...cause you know there aren't tons more writers than basketball players or anything, and c) because the odds for being a published author aren't MUCH better.

-He forces his religon on me."God is the bow and parents are the string and you are the arrow", "You have to have a balance of God, family, friends, and work.", "Original sin", etc. I've heavily implied that I'm no longer a Christain, but he's got his head in his butt.

-He says I live in a 'fantasy world'I can't even tell you how angry this makes me. Yep, I'm just blissfully unaware of my sister's cancer, my mom's stress, my dad's heart problems, my own huge shortcomings, my best friend's annoying family, my grandad's alzheimer's, my aunt and uncle getting a divorce, etc. Nothing bad happens in my life or in the world at all! *skips away happily*

-And the number one thing...I trusted him with my story. Just one. It wasn't my best, but I still like it. What did he do, you ask? Read it, talk to me about, ask about the characters and my inspiration and if anything was based off real life? Nope! He read it to people. He read it first to a group of psychiarists who he discusses my 'case' with on a regular basis, then a friend who, before he read the story to, thought I was 'not very smart', then a writer friend of his. He never asked for permission or asked if it was okay. And I haven't told him because I'm a sissy.

There's been some discussion recently on Tumblr about what they could possibly do to raise the stakes for a National Treasure 3. We have this so far for 1 & 2AndSo here are some ideas from Tumblr for number 3:i’m going to hold the statue of liberty hostagei’m going to blow up DelawareI’M GOING TO REWRITE THE ARTICLES OF CONFEDERATIONi’m going to steal the internetI’m going to deface the american flag on the moonand put my face on iti’m going to steal Walt Disney’s frozen head and use it as a snow globei’m going to be the twelfth doctor and resurrect gallifreyi’m going to prevent the reichenbach fallI’m going to take the Hobbits to Isengardi’m going to throw the elder wand off a bridgeI’m going to become the MockingjayI’m going to destroy the Green SunI’m going to be the cause of the world ending in 2012I’m going to end the DFS sale.I’m going to walk into MordorI’m going to divide by zeroI'm going to travel to Pete's World and bring back Roes.I'm going to talk about Fight ClubI'm going to talkm about Tumblr on facebook.I'm going to write a heterosexual fanfiction for Sherlock.

IHear the sledges with the bells -Silver bells!What a world of merriment their melody foretells!How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,In the icy air of night!While the stars that oversprinkleAll the heavens seem to twinkleWith a crystalline delight;Keeping time, time, time,In a sort of Runic rhyme,To the tintinnabulation that so musically wellsFrom the bells, bells, bells, bells,Bells, bells, bells -From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

IIHear the mellow wedding bells -Golden bells!What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!Through the balmy air of nightHow they ring out their delight!From the molten-golden notes,And all in tune,What a liquid ditty floatsTo the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloatsOn the moon!Oh, from out the sounding cellsWhat a gush of euphony voluminously wells!How it swells!How it dwellsOn the Future! -how it tellsOf the rapture that impelsTo the swinging and the ringingOf the bells, bells, bells,Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,Bells, bells, bells -To the rhyming and the chiming of the bells!

IIIHear the loud alarum bells -Brazen bells!What a tale of terror, now, their turbulency tells!In the startled ear of nightHow they scream out their affright!Too much horrified to speak,They can only shriek, shriek,Out of tune,In a clamorous appealing to the mercy of the fire,In a mad expostulation with the deaf and frantic fire,Leaping higher, higher, higher,With a desperate desire,And a resolute endeavorNow -now to sit or never,By the side of the pale-faced moon.Oh, the bells, bells, bells!What a tale their terror tellsOf despair!How they clang, and clash, and roar!What a horror they outpourOn the bosom of the palpitating air!Yet the ear it fully knows,By the twangingAnd the clanging,How the danger ebbs and flows;Yet the ear distinctly tells,In the janglingAnd the wrangling,How the danger sinks and swells,By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells -Of the bells,Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,Bells, bells, bells -In the clamor and the clangor of the bells!

IVHear the tolling of the bells -Iron bells!What a world of solemn thought their monody compels!In the silence of the night,How we shiver with affrightAt the melancholy menace of their tone!For every sound that floatsFrom the rust within their throatsIs a groan.And the people -ah, the people -They that dwell up in the steeple,All alone,And who tolling, tolling, tolling,In that muffled monotone,Feel a glory in so rollingOn the human heart a stone -They are neither man nor woman -They are neither brute nor human -They are Ghouls:And their king it is who tolls;And he rolls, rolls, rolls,RollsA paean from the bells!And his merry bosom swellsWith the paean of the bells!And he dances, and he yells;Keeping time, time, time,In a sort of Runic rhyme,To the paean of the bells,Of the bells -Keeping time, time, time,In a sort of Runic rhyme,To the throbbing of the bells,Of the bells, bells, bells -To the sobbing of the bells;Keeping time, time, time,As he knells, knells, knells,In a happy Runic rhyme,To the rolling of the bells,Of the bells, bells, bells -To the tolling of the bells,Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,Bells, bells, bells -To the moaning and the groaning of the bells

It was many and many a year ago,In a kingdom by the sea,That a maiden there lived whom you may knowBy the name of ANNABEL LEE;And this maiden she lived with no other thoughtThan to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,In this kingdom by the sea;But we loved with a love that was more than love-I and my Annabel Lee;With a love that the winged seraphs of heavenCoveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,In this kingdom by the sea,A wind blew out of a cloud, chillingMy beautiful Annabel Lee;So that her highborn kinsman cameAnd bore her away from me,To shut her up in a sepulchreIn this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,Went envying her and me-Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,In this kingdom by the sea)That the wind came out of the cloud by night,Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the loveOf those who were older than we-Of many far wiser than we-And neither the angels in heaven above,Nor the demons down under the sea,Can ever dissever my soul from the soulOf the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreamsOf the beautiful Annabel Lee;And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyesOf the beautiful Annabel Lee;And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the sideOf my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,In the sepulchre there by the sea,In her tomb by the sounding sea.